


Mirror, Mirror

by DaftHappiness



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Fae & Fairies, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4383128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaftHappiness/pseuds/DaftHappiness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For most people, mirrors are only avoided when you don't like the look of your own reflection. In Eren Jaeger's case, he's avoiding mirrors for an entirely different reason- that reason being the person he sees in his reflection looks nothing like him. Even when this mysterious and eerily beautiful man in the mirror proves himself to be more than just a vivid hallucination, some questions still remain: Who is he? What is he? And just what does he want with Eren?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Stranger

I only made it about four minutes into my shift before I began to taste blood and had to start swallowing – it was safe to assume that I probably looked awful at the moment, if my split lip and hole scraped into the side of my cheek was anything to go by. Armin was still hovering nearby, clearly not convinced by the plethora of 'I'm fine's and 'Don't worry about me's I'd thrown at him, so I did my best to refrain from shuddering as the thick metallic fluid slid down my throat. I was convinced I hid the revulsion on my face pretty well until I looked over just in time to see his baby blue eyes flash away, trying very hard to look as if he wasn't analyzing my every movement.

“Armin,” I sighed, “Please get back to work.”

“I am working.” He replied indignantly, his chin raising up just a fraction.

“You've been picking up the same book and putting it back down for the past two minutes.”

“I'm trying to decide if _Watership Down_ can really be considered a classic or if I should return it to the fiction section.” He fired back, trying very hard to sound convincing even though he and I both knew he had been the one to put that display together in the first place and wouldn't have put anything on the table that he hadn't already thoroughly researched. I rolled my eyes just discretely enough for him to see, but said nothing more.

Most days, being a barista in the cafe located inside the local bookstore where Armin worked was nothing short of a blessing; having my best friend around to talk to whenever there was a lull in business was always preferable to ramming my head into a wall repeatedly to relieve the boredom. In this instance though, I just wished he would give up on trying to ferret information out of me and get back to doing his job before a manager came over and saw what a sub-par job he was doing of stocking and organizing books. Armin, however, was nothing if not persistent; sixteen minutes later, he was still hanging around just a couple meters away from the pastry display case, pretending to rearrange the books sitting on the classics table this way and that before I finally got fed up.

“If I tell you what happened, will you please move on from reverse-alphabetizing that table and actually get to work?” I asked, slightly exasperated.

Armin placed a copy of _The Awakening_ down gently and looked up at me with an annoyingly triumphant smile. “Yes.”

I sighed again, “I fell, okay? I woke up this morning a little late and I was rushing too much and when I walked out the door I was still pulling my jeans up and tripped over one of hems and tumbled down the stairs and crashed to the floor of the lobby.”

“Oh my gosh, Eren!” Armin gasped, “You have to be more careful!”

Armin must have decided that my admittance of my own stupidity was a signal that he was allowed to approach and examine my wounds, as he quickly ducked around the counter and placed a hand on either side of my face before I had the time to back away.

“How did you manage to bloody yourself up this much? The floors of your apartment building are wood, not concrete.” Armin asked, gingerly pressing his thumb to my swollen cheek.

Wincing, I said, “I may or may not have bashed my head into the wall when trying to grab the railing to stop myself.”

“Eren!” Armin scoffed, “You're lucky you didn't break your nose!” I simply hummed an affirmation as he continued his examination, doing my best to keep still as he poked and prodded any bruised or tender areas. Usually, I got annoyed fairly quick whenever anyone tried to fuss over me too much, but for some reason I didn't mind too much when Armin did it. “Did you black out or anything after you fell? Do you have a headache? Are you dizzy? Nauseous?”

“I'm pretty sure I don't have a concussion, if that's what you're getting at.” I said, “I didn't really hit my head that hard, it just scraped off some skin.”

Armin seemed satisfied enough with that answer to stop checking my eyes for pupil irregularity and lowered his hands. “Well, if you're okay you should have at least cleaned up a bit before coming into work.” He said with a slight frown, “You're going to scare off the customers.”

“I, erm, I was going to, but like I said, I was already running late.” I mumbled lamely.

“Maybe you should go to the restroom and at the very least wet a cloth and wipe off that smeared blood.” Armin said, putting his hand up to his own cheek as if he were the one with the skin abrasions. “And you could try to tame your hair a bit too, it's sticking up all over the place.”

I realized I had bit down on my lip when a sharp pain emanated from where the skin had split, and I let out a soft groan as I began to taste blood once more. “Could you maybe grab the first aid kit and help patch me up?”

The look on Armin's face tells me that he probably would have offered anyway if I hadn't asked, and he nods, “Yes, of course. Now you go wash up while I grab the kit and I'll meet you there.”

I shot him a grateful smile and began to make my way over to the public restroom, the feeling of dread I had done a good job of avoiding thus far finally settling over me and growing heavier with each step. I hadn't completely lied to Armin when I had told him that the reason I hadn't cleaned off my face, I really had been running late and if I had gone back up to my apartment I probably would have gotten into some trouble with our boss, but that wasn't the whole truth either. Neither was my reasoning for asking him to accompany me to the restroom.

It wasn't that I couldn't fix myself up on my own, it was that I really, _really_ did not want to be alone in front of a mirror.

Steeling myself as best I could for what was to come, I shoved open the men's restroom door without stepping inside, listening to see if anyone else happened to be in there already. Luckily, I was met with only silence, and after allowing myself one more moment of hesitation, I stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind me. It wasn't as if I wasn't prepared for what I was going to see when I glanced over towards the row of three mirrors hanging directly above a line of porcelain sinks, but somehow no matter how many times I did this I couldn't squash the teeny tiny part of me that believed this time might be different.

I couldn't seem to shut up that little voice in the back of my head telling me that maybe, just _maybe_ , when I look in the mirror I'll see my own reflection staring back at me.

Of course that little voice was swiftly and effectively cut off the moment my gaze fell upon the figure staring back at me from his place behind the mirror's glass.

He was striking, to say the least, but almost eerily so. Under the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom, his skin had almost a deathly look about it, reminiscent of a corpse in more ways than one; the near translucently pale skin was stretched tight over his angular visage, creating hollows beneath his high cheekbones and dramatic shadowing over the planes of his face. This only managed to call more attention to his already too-conspicuous eyes; framed by the ebony locks that hung on either side of his face, his irises appeared to be made up of pure silver, their brightness contrasting starkly against the deep dark circles that resided beneath them. Though his eyes were bright with something I couldn't decipher, his straight eyebrows and already thin lips pressed into an even thinner line gave him a perpetual expression nonchalance, which never failed to anger me. Worse than that was the fact that he could almost be considered beautiful, but there was a strange, ethereal quality about him that kept that adjective at bay.

“Wow kid, you're a mess.” came his low, modulated voice, “Did your foot catch on something on your way down the stairs this morning?”

“Shut up.” I groaned, stepping forward to run the tap. He often made small comments like that, sounding completely offhanded but hitting too close to the truth for it to be coincidence. It often felt like he wasn't limited to only observing me when I stood in front of a mirror, which was a scary thought that I chose to ignore more often than not.

This whole thing started just over a month ago. At first, the changes were very slight, like how I began to notice that when I looked in the mirror it appeared as though I had lost weight- my cheekbones were protruding slightly, my ribs and collarbone were more pronounced when I lifted up my shirt. Before long though, the alterations in my reflection began to get more drastic: my lips appeared to have thinned a bit, my skin looked paler, my hair got darker, little changes that I tried to dismiss. For the most part I did a pretty good job of ignoring these odd adjustments, passing them off as a trick of the light or perhaps an illness, but one day I noticed the eyes in my reflection had changed from their usual teal to a molten silver and that was when I knew something was very, very wrong. Not long after that, he seemed to give up on mimicking my appearance altogether, instead favoring the appearance I saw before me today. Since he had stopped trying to impersonate me, he instead took to occupying his time with verbal harassment - oftentimes he targeted my appearance, making snide remarks that I couldn't really form a rebuttal for because I honestly had no idea what I looked like since he was, you know, monopolizing the space where my reflection should have been.

Such was the case today.

“Not that your face isn't always a train wreck, but you should at least _try_ to clean yourself up a bit; if you don't do something about that split lip of yours you're going to end up bleeding on your shirt, which would be disgusting.” he said, lip curling up in clear antipathy.

Every fiber of my being wanted to completely ignore my bleeding lip now just to spite him, but I had told Armin I was going to at the very least wash off the blood before he came to help fix me up, so I had no choice but to yield. I could feel myself glowering as I tore off a sheet of paper towel to run under the tap, and when I turned back to face the mirror, the man was looking at me with clear amusement in his eyes, as if he was entertained my the small tantrum I was throwing. I had to resist the urge to stick my tongue out at him.

Armin entered the restroom then, causing me to whirl around, bracing my arms against the sink and widening my stance as if I were trying to hide the person residing in the mirror from view. He seemed to take note of my odd behavior, a concerned crease running between his eyebrows before saying, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, are you okay?”

“I, erm, yeah, yeah, I'm fine.” I replied, willing my heart rate to slow down. Behind me, I could hear the man in the mirror let out a sharp huff that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Luckily Armin seemed not to hear him, instead pulling open the box of first-aid supplies and beckoning me closer. My eyes automatically flashed behind me, wondering if Armin would be able to see the figure behind me if I moved away- for some reason I was still clinging to the vain hope that he was not all in my head and when Armin looked into the mirror he would find the same strange man staring back at him.

As if reading my thoughts, his voice came from behind me saying, “He can't see me, if that's what you're worried about.”

I couldn't tell if I was relieved by that information or not.

Regardless, I stepped forward and let Armin swipe my open wounds with an antiseptic pad and smooth a bandaid over my cheek with the pads of his thumbs, absently thinking how lucky he was to be oblivious to the gaze I could feel boring into my back from behind. “Are you hurt anywhere else that you haven't told me about?” Armin asked, his fingers working their way through my tussled hair, trying to tame the unruly locks. Those words were nostalgic somehow, taking me back to when we were younger, sitting on his porch steps after school and him patching me up after various altercations with a whole slew of individuals over the years; oftentimes I would insist that I was fine, just to have him quit fussing over me, but he always managed to figure out where I was hurting one way or another. He had always been ridiculously observant and attentive to others' needs, so it was of little surprise to me when he decided to go to school to study medicine and become a pediatrician.

“I think that's everything, Dr. Arlert, thank you.” I said playfully, moving away from his reach. “You should probably get back to work though, I really don't want you getting in trouble because of me.”

Armin rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless, “Don't worry, I told Hannes you got a little roughed up when I was grabbing the first-air kit and he said to take my time.”

“Well, I don't want to keep you any longer than I have to, and aside form my splitting headache, I think I'm going to be fine. Thanks, Armin.”

“I'm just glad you finally broke down and told me so I could help you before you ran into Mikasa- you know if she would have found you first, you'd already be sitting in the emergency room.” Armin said teasingly.

Unfortunately, Armin was probably right, and I winced at the thought. “She's probably still going to flip when she sees my face.”

“The swelling should go down significantly by the time your shift is over,” Armin said, latching the first-aid box up again, “by the time she comes to pick you up you won't look half as alarming as you did when you walked in this morning. I don't think she'll bother you too much about it.”

“I hope you're right.” I sighed, trailing behind Armin as he made his way out of the restroom.

I had almost forgotten about the man in the mirror entirely until I heard a quiet, “See you soon, brat.” follow me out as the door swing closed behind me.

Worse still, I couldn't decide if those words were meant to be a promise or a threat.

 

 


	2. Together Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eren goes on a platonic dinner date and becomes increasingly distressed as the night wears on.

“You're such a dolt, Eren.” Mikasa admonished, “You need to be more careful.”

It was a Wednesday, and, as per tradition, Mikasa had picked me up from work in her red '01 Ford Ranger and we were on our way to grab something to eat. As I had predicted, she was not particularly thrilled to see the state my face was in, and was at first suggesting that I let her take me to a doctor to get it checked out, though she had calmed considerably since I told her I had already had Armin take a look at it.

Speaking of Armin, “Yeah, Yeah, I'm a complete moron and a hazard to society when I don't watch where I'm going- I heard the whole spiel from the good doctor Arlert already.” I said with a very discreet roll of the eyes.

“Don't you back-sass me, you punk.” Mikasa replied with a smile, taking one of her hands off the wheel and jabbing her elbow at me playfully.

“Hey, hey! Watch it! Those are certified weapons of mass destruction!” I grunted, swatting her arm away. It wasn't entirely false; Mikasa was what I liked to call a 'super black belt,' though she simply referred to it her 'third dan' or something like that, which really only meant she could probably put just about anyone flat on their back in about two minutes or less. She'd been interested in the martial arts since as long as I could remember, earning her black belt at the fairly young age of fifteen, and since the idea of college had never really excited her, she instead began working at an MMA dojo straight after high school to further her skills while simultaneously earning money. In short, I had a right to be wary of any motion she made towards me.

Luckily, Mikasa conceded to my demands, placing both hands back on the steering wheel and letting out a breathy chuckle before her lips fell into a small pout and she looked over at me from the corner of her eye.

“Are you really doing okay though? You've been looking a little worse for the wear lately.” She said, “And I'm not just talking about whole the falling down the stairs thing, you've been looking exhausted for weeks. Are you taking care of yourself?”

“Yes, Mom-kasa,” I teased, trying to steer clear of having this conversation again, “I've been eating at least two square meals a day and getting plenty of sleep, just like I promised.”

Mikasa pursed her lips, clearly unconvinced. “You know, if you're having a hard time, my lease is almost up for the year, it's not too late to add your name to it. I'd even cover the rent for you, if you paid for your own utilities and chipped in for the groceries.”

I wouldn't have been able to stop the frown from falling across my face if I had wanted to.

Ever since Mom had died and Dad decided to go MIA, Mikasa had taken it upon herself to watch over me, acting as a sort of parental figure even though we were both the same age; it was endearing, to an extent, knowing just how much she cared about me, but oftentimes her concern for me kept her from living her own life. It was because of this that as soon as I'd hit the age of eighteen I'd insisted I should move out, explaining that I was an adult now and I was capable of taking care of myself. I didn't want her acting like my legal guardian anymore, I wanted her to go back to acting like my sister again. Surprisingly, she agreed, albeit begrudgingly, though whenever I showed any signs that I wasn't taking care of myself properly, she would insist that I come and move back in with her.

That was precisely the reason I couldn't tell her anything regarding the man I'd been seeing in place of my reflection. If I even hinted at something as convoluted as that she'd have me moved back into her apartment by the end of the night and more than likely I'd be shoved off to therapy the next day.

“Thanks Mikasa, but I'm doing okay, really.” I said as evenly as I could manage, “I've just been really busy lately, Hannes has bumped me up to a full-time employee and I'm still getting used to the additional hours on my feet. I'll be fine once I find my groove.”

“That's just another reason for you to move in. School will be starting soon, and I'm worried you won't be able to juggle your classes with your work schedule.”

“You're not going to be able to take care of me all my life, you know?” I said, my tone of voice tender, “I've got to start doing these things on my own. I can do this.”

Mikasa glanced over at me once more with a look of doubt, but quickly shifted her eyes back to the road, letting out a sigh of defeat. “Okay, I trust you.”

I tried to ignore the twisting feeling in my gut that appeared the moment those words left her mouth. I didn't like lying to Mikasa, but for the time being I would have to bear the guilt of knowingly misplacing her trust- I just had to keep telling myself how much worse the alternative would be.

Before any extensive self-loathing could set in, however, Mikasa artfully changed topics.

Clearing her throat, she said, “I know these Wednesday dinner dates are usually just the two of us, but I invited someone else along just this once.”

“Who could you have possibly gotten to accept an invitation to dinner with the two of _us_?” I asked, an eyebrow quirked.

“Are you implying that anyone wouldn't jump at the chance to be graced by our presence for the night?” She answered with a small smirk, ignoring my question.

“That's exactly what I'm implying.”

Mikasa was as close to grinning as she ever got, clearly amused by my banter. “Well, maybe I'd just deluded myself into thinking Marco actually enjoyed our company.”

My eyebrows shot up at the little revelation. “Marco's home?”

“Mm-hm.” Mikasa hummed in affirmation, “Just got the message this morning. He just got in last night and has spent most of the day recovering from jet lag, but he wanted to see us tonight so I invited him to come with us.”

I could practically feel the unbridled joy light up my face at the news I'd been given; prior our freshman year of high school, Armin, Mikasa and I mostly kept to ourselves- Armin was too shy to socialize much, and my pigheaded-ness often impeded upon my ability to make friends, so together with Mikasa we formed our own little band of merry misfits and happily stayed intentionally ostracized from our peers for the first eight years of our education. And then Marco came along. Marco-with his big caramel-brown eyes, his goofy center part haircut, and his freckles to numerous to count- he came right up to us on our first day of ninth grade and, completely oblivious to the solitary aura I had been certain surrounded our little group like a tangible blanket, and introduced himself. After that, he just seemed to naturally integrate himself into our company, and surprisingly, we let him do so with little to no complaint. He was charming, funny, and easy to get a long with, it was impossible _not_ to like him.

Unfortunately, none of us had seen him face to face for nearly a year, as he was overseas completing his immersion coursework for his majors in French and language education. We exchanged email's occasionally and skyped every so often, but between our busy lives and drastic differences in time zones, communication was often difficult- as a result, I couldn't remember the last time we'd done anything more than exchange a handful of words.

“Do you know how long he's staying for?” I asked.

“I think for the whole next semester.”

I grinned, suddenly far more excited for the upcoming school year than I'd thought possible.

 

* * *

 

“Marco!” I nearly yelled his name when I saw him seated across the room, despite the withering look Mikasa threw in my direction that was the unspoken equivalent of 'please keep your voice down, we're in a relatively fancy restaurant.'

Marco's head whipped around searching for the source of the outburst, eyes scanning the room and smiling fondly when they settled on Mikasa and I making our way towards him.

“Eren! Mikasa!” He said, standing up to hug each of us in turn, “You have no idea how good it is to see you two.”

“You're probably one of the few people in the world who can say that with a straight face.” I said jokingly as I took my seat.

Marco rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, “You're actually surprisingly pleasant to be around, when you want to be.”

Mikasa snorted beside me, “That being said, when _does_ he ever want to be?”

The laughter that tumbled out from between Marco's lips in response could cure any ailment, it was so pure and wonderful.

“Ha ha ha. Ha ha. Ha. Hilarious.” I said, feigning annoyance at the comment, “Now if we're done making fun of my belligerent nature, would you kindly tell us what you've been up to for the past few weeks?”

Marco's soft brown eyes lit up at the chance to share his experiences, immediately launching into a detailed account of everything he had experienced over the past couple months in vivid detail, slipping in and out of french as if it were now second nature to him- which is probably was. In the middle of a lengthy description of the food his host father prepared on a daily basis (he was a chef in a local restaurant,) I felt the need to stop him.

“That's great and all Marco, but more importantly, did you meet any cute guys there across the pond?” I questioned with a grin.

“Eren!” Mikasa chided, though I was hardly concerned with her disapproval when I saw Marco's face go beet red at the mention of boys.

“You did, didn't you!” I exclaimed, “You have to tell me about this cute foreign boy or so help me I will be forced to pester you for the entire length of your time here for details.”

Holding his hands up in surrender, Marco said, “Okay! Okay, yes! I met a cute boy in France. Happy?”

“Details, Marco.” I pressed.

Marco sighed, “His name is Jean, he's a photographer.”

“Do you have a picture of him?” I asked, gentler this time.

Marco flushed again, but shoved his hand into his pocket anyway to fish out his cellphone. “Here, this is him.”

Plucking the phone from Marco's fingertips, I saw a a photograph of a young man with ash-brown hair, the sides and back of which seemed to be a totally different, darker shade of brown altogether. It was odd, but tasteful, and seemed somehow fitting with his tawny eyes and long face.

“He looks like a horse.” I observed.

“Eren!” Mikasa said, swatting me lightly upside the head, clearly exasperated.

“Hey! I didn't mean it as an insult, I'm just stating what I see!” I said defensively, “Besides, what he makes up for with that ridiculous jawline he makes up for with those eyes of his- which are clearly only set on our boy Marco here.” That part wasn't an exaggeration, either, the look this Jean was giving the person behind the camera, which I assumed to be Marco, was one of complete and utter infatuation.

“Well that's good,” Marco said quietly, eyes focused on his lap, “because we're dating.”

“Atta boy, Marco!” I cheered, pumping a fist into the air.

Mikasa smiled, “Congratulations, Marco. I'm happy for you.”

“Thanks you guys, I'm really happy too, actually.”

For most of the rest of the night, Mikasa and I let Marco ramble on uninterrupted about his various escapades in France, some of the stories featured his new boyfriend, some didn't, but all were spoken with the same contagious enthusiasm. Despite his earnest joy though, I had noticed something amiss in his behavior by the time our food had come: as the night went on, Marco was avoiding looking at me more and more. Even when I spoke to him directly, his eyes would only lift up to meet mine for a moment or two before they flicked off slightly to my left and then either down at his plate or over towards Mikasa. It was worrisome to say the least, especially when he had seemed so ecstatic to see me when I had first arrived. Had I done something wrong?

I tried to sift through the moments leading up to now, analyzing them for something I might have done to cause him to actively shy away from me. Normally it didn't take very long for me to find the offending phrase when someone acted like this; a majority of the time I spoke my mind with little to no censorship, which caused most people discomfort and and more often than not I would end up offending someone in some way without knowing or meaning to. Marco was used to my mannerisms though, as much as anyone could be, and when I tried to identify a single word or phrase that might have caused this awkwardness I came up short.

Before I could come up with an answer however, our food was cleared form the table and we all paid our respective checks. Mikasa was the first to stand, saying she wished she could stay longer but she had to teach the seven 'o clock class in the morning and needed to get home to bed, and I pushed back my chair to follow along behind her when Marco spoke up.

“Hey, Eren, you don't have an early shift tomorrow, do you?”

I quickly ran through my schedule in my head before saying, “No, I don't go in until noon.”

“Then how about we go back to my place to hang for a while? You got to hear all about my adventures over the last couple months but I haven't gotten to hear much about what you've done.” Marco said, looking directly at me for the first time in probably forty minutes.

“Sure, sounds great.” I replied, trying not to look as wary as I suddenly felt.

We waved goodbye to Mikasa as she went the opposite direction, and then we were alone. Without a word, Marco set off towards his own car and I trailed behind him, still trying to figure out what exactly was going on. The ride home offered no clues either, as neither Marco nor I offered up any sort of conversation material and instead sat in relative silence with nothing but the sounds of the humming engine and Smashing Pumpkin's _Tonight, Tonight_ playing softly on the radio. In fact, not a word was spoken between us until we exited the car and entered Marco's apartment.

He ushered me inside, and closed the door behind us, swiftly locking it before turning to face me.

“Marco, is everything okay?” I asked finally, “You've been acting weird since the waitress took our orders back at the restaurant.”

Marco said nothing for a moment- instead, he squeezed his eyes shut, his forehead crumpling and lips pressing together so tight I could practically see his teeth clenched painfully behind them. He looked so visibly distraught all of a sudden that I wouldn't stop myself from stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder; regardless of his off behavior, Marco was still one of my best friends, and seeing him in this state worried me greatly. I wanted nothing more than to ease the tension from his face, but I hadn't the faintest idea of how to go about it.

“Marco,” I tried again, “Please, talk to me.”

At those words, Marco finally opened his eyes, saying “Yes, talk. We need to talk.”

“I'm listening.” I said, retracting my hand slowly, as if it would spook him if I moved too quickly.

“Eren,” he said, looking at me with a steady, unwavering gaze, “You're being followed.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gooooooood the second half for this chapter is so sloppy and I feel like this is the most boring chapter to read in the history of things I have written, and I am so sincerely sorry if it feels that way to you all too- I just needed to get all that exposition out of the way. It get's more interesting in the next chapter, I promise, and lots of things are explained.
> 
> Regardless, the support I've been getting for this fic even after only one chapter is unreal, and I'd like to thank you all for the numerous comments and kudos, they really mean a lot to me <3 I hope you continue to enjoy this story for chapters to come as well!


	3. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the world Eren knew comes crashing down.

My eyes followed Marco's every movement as he flit nervously around the small apartment kitchen; once he'd told me he was under the impression that someone was following me, he'd ushered me into the kitchen and insisted that I sit and make us some tea before we discussed this further. I said nothing about the fact that I didn't really like tea, because at the moment I was willing to do just about anything to calm this kid down and have him elaborate on the bomb he'd just dropped.

When the kettle started screaming I winced, the sudden, high-pitched keening effectively filling the too-quiet room. Marco quickly grabbed it off the heat and poured the boiling water into a couple of mismatched mugs, grabbing both handles in one hand and a bottle of honey in the other before making his way to the table; neither if us said anything as he sat himself down and slid a cup towards me, nor when he added a gratuitous amount of honey and a spoonful of sugar to his mug and dropped in the tea bag, so by the time he had begun taking tiny sips of that gross leaf water I was so irked I couldn't wait for him to start the conversation any longer.

“I thought you said we were going to talk.” I said, not bothering to mask the annoyance in my tone.

Marco froze mid-sip, every muscle in his shoulders instantly tensing up for a single moment before he visibly forced himself to relax, swallowing hard. “Yeah, you're right, I'm sorry. I guess... I guess I just don't know how to go about telling you this- I've never told anyone before.”

“Well, I should hope that you've never had to tell anyone that they're being stalked before.” I replied, only half joking.

“Well, yes, that too.” he said, letting out a humor-less laugh and set his mug aside, “But I'm referring to the fact that I can see invisible faeries.”

Of all the things I was prepared for him to say to me, surprisingly, that was not one of them.

For a few tense seconds I didn't have the slightest idea of how to reply; of course my first instinct was to deny the information Marco had just given me- either by getting angry at him for telling me something so ridiculously outlandish when he's honestly had me scared for my life, or to laugh it off as some sort of poorly-timed joke- but the way he was looking at me, finally holding my gaze with a determined set to his jaw, I was unable to flat out say that I thought he was spouting bullshit.

“Faeries? Like, little winged people?” I asked finally, unable to think of anything else to say.

“No. They're usually our size or bigger, and most of them don't have wings.” Marco said, as mater-of-factly as if I had just asked him the name of the tea he was drinking.

“Huh.” Was the only reply I could manage. This whole situation was borderline surreal, and I was honestly having a bit of trouble trying to process it all- it's not every day that one of your best friends comes to you saying he can see intangible mythical creatures and you're forced to decide whether or not they're certifiably insane.

As if sensing my thought pattern, Marco quickly continued, his eyes dropping to his hands folded carefully in his lap, he said, “Look, Eren, I know how it sounds, trust me. I know I sound crazy- but I promise you Eren, I'm not just seeing things. Faeries are real, terrifying beings, and they're everywhere.”

“What's so terrifying about them?” I asked, confused; for whatever reason, I was having a hard time getting the image of tiny Tinkerbell-eque people floating around with inset wings out of my head whenever he said the word 'faerie'.

“They hurt people, Eren.” Marco replied in almost a whisper, “Sometimes it's only little stuff; they grope people, pinch them, trip them. Stupid things.” He swallowed hard, “But sometimes it's worse. A lot worse. They do really bad, really _sick_ , twisted things to people.”

Then he said the awful words that I somehow knew were coming next:

“And one of them is following you.”

It could have been that the declaration Marco had just made was so crazy I couldn't think of what to say in return, or it might have been the fact that my mouth probably wouldn't have worked if I had wanted it to, but whatever the reason was, I stayed perfectly still and silent. For a few heartbeats the room was enveloped in a stifling silence, but once Marco was assured I had nothing to say and wouldn't be stopping him, he continued on.

“I first noticed him when you walked into the restaurant, and I thought nothing of it at first.” He explained, “Fey do that all the time, following people around for a bit, causing a bit of mischief, and then scampering off to find another victim, but this one, he didn't _do_ anything. He just stood there just off to your left, watching you, and his _eyes_ -” Marco stopped and visibly shuddered, “His eyes looked like pools of liquid silver.”

I wasn't fully aware that I had shot up to my feet until I heard the crash of the wooden chair falling to the floor behind me and I found myself staring down at Marco, wide-eyed and suddenly more terrified than I could ever remember being.

“You've seen him.” He said. It wasn't a question- the answer must has been written all over my face.

“He's got black hair.” I said, and Marco nodded, “And pale skin.” he nodded again. “And he's impossibly thin.” Another nod. “He's real. I'm not crazy.” One last nod.

I burst out laughing then, not because any part of this whole scenario was even remotely funny, but because it was all so awful.

“Why are you laughing?” Marco asked warily, which only caused me to laugh harder. In fact, I began to laugh so hard that soon I was clutching at my gut, tears beginning to stream down my face.

And then I began to sob.

“Oh, Eren, oh god, you're crying,” Marco said, clearly startled by my reaction. He rose quickly from his chair and rounded the tiny table to where I still stood, “Oh Eren, I'm so sorry.” He quickly took me into his arms, wrapping them protectively around my shoulders and tucking my head under his chin, one hand softly traveled up and down my spine, while the other patted my hair in an attempt to calm me. I couldn't be sure if his actions were helping me or making the situation worse because the tears were coming down faster as the sobs wracked though my chest, and it was all I could to to just cling to the front of Marco's shirt and let him hold me as I wrested to get my now rampant emotions back under control.

For what it's worth, I felt I had recovered fairly quick from my little episode; it was probably only a minute or two later that my tears had tapered off and one of my hands released Marco's shirt to wipe the remaining ones from my cheeks. “Is he here now?” I asked, my eyes scanning the room for things unseen.

Marco's hand stilled on the small of my back and I pulled away just enough to be able to look at his face as he said, “No, he can't get in here. The bars on the front door, they're made of iron, and fey can't touch iron... Though, he followed us here, so I'd be willing to bet he's waiting outside on the sidewalk.”

“Faeries can't touch iron?” I questioned, choosing to ignore the second half of that statement. I was surprised by how relaxed my voice sounded.

“I don't exactly know why, but no, they can't. It's one of the few prevention strategies from lore that actually work.” He said, looking as surprised by my newfound calm as I felt.

“Hm.” I murmured, digesting that information, “And how come you can see faeries everywhere, but I can only see this one and even that only happens when I look in the mirror?”

Something about the words that had just come from my mouth clearly unnerved Marco, as his gaze instantly snapped to mine. “You see him in a mirror?” he asked.

I shrugged, “Any exceptionally reflective surface, really.”

“How long has this been going on?” He asked, his brow furrowing in what I assumed was confusion.

Taking pause to estimate the days that had gone by since I'd stopped seeing myself in my reflection, I was silent for a bit before coming to the conclusion that “It's probably been around five weeks now.”

Marco's complexion visibly paled, “He's been around you for _five weeks_?” I nodded yes. “And he hasn't hurt you in any way?”

I thought about it, then shook my head no. “Not that I know of.”

“Christ.” Marco swore under his breath.

“What?” I asked, “What does that mean?”

“I don't... I don't know, Eren.” He said, his arms slipping from where they had been resting around my waist, “If he wanted to hurt you or, god forbid, _take_ you, he certainly would have done it by now.”

“ _Take me_?” I asked, understandably unnerved by the implications of that phrase.

When I looked up again to see Marco's face, his eyes were all screwed up, brow furrowed in confusion and two fingers rubbing rhythmic circles on either side of his head around his temples. “The fey, they sometimes take people away. No one really knows for sure what they do with the people they've abducted, but as far as I know there are very few that ever make it back once they've been taken.” He opened his eyes and looked at me, “But the fey are also frivolous and impulsive, I've never seen or heard of one putting this much effort into stalking someone before.”

I wasn't sure that fact was supposed to be reassuring or not, but for some reason the tightness in my chest eased a little at his words. Whatever this guy- this _faerie_ \- was up to, he didn't appear to mean me any immediate harm, which was probably a good thing.

“So this faerie boy doesn't seem to want to hurt me or spirit me away, but I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea of him silently following me around all the time either, harmless or not. Is there anything I can do to get him to, you know, _leave_?” I asked, my tone sounding hopeful.

“No, no, I don't think so.” Marco said, shaking his head. There are a few things I've found when researching the lore, but they don't all translate to all kinds of fey, and some of them don't even seem to work at all. Aside form that, if you all of a sudden started carrying around a bunch of anti-faerie items, he'd probably suspect that you figured out what he his and can really _see_ him, which would be very dangerous for you.”

My lips pursed in response, “Why is that?”

“One consistency between most of the lore is that if the fey find a human to have the Sight, they are blinded on the spot, or worse.” he replied softly, “That's why I've never told anyone. Aside from the fact that most people would think me crazy for coming out and saying that I see faeries, if the fey heard even a rumor that I was born with the Sight, I'd be snatched up in a heartbeat.”

“You've always been able to see these things?” I gasped, horrified at the thought.

Marco nodded, “My mom can see them too, I think it's hereditary, she made sure I knew the dangers of the fey as soon as I was old enough to comprehend it.”

“Wow,” I said, somewhat in awe, “Marco, I'm so sorry I never knew.”

“It's better that you didn't. In fact, I wish you didn't have to now, but I couldn't just let you carry on with him following you around and you not knowing.” He said, looking at me with apologetic eyes.

I waved my hand dismissively, “This isn't your fault, Marco. For what it's worth, I'm glad I know now. Maybe now we can figure out some way to make my faerie stalker leave me alone.”

A sad smile found it's way to Marco's lips, but he nodded in agreement, and I grinned in response with a confidence that was nothing more than skin-deep.

“In the mean time, I need to get home. I know I said that I don't have to work _early_ tomorrow, but I do still have to work.” I said, stepping back from Marco and making my way out of the kitchen. “Should I call for a cab?”

Marco shook his head, “No, it's fine, I'll drive you.”

After grabbing his keys, Marco and I made our way out of the apartment building and onto the street where Marco's car was parked. I tried to pass the chill that traveled down my spine off as a reaction to the cooling night air, but I couldn't deny that it was more than likely because I was now hyper-aware of the possibility that a certain raven-haired man was watching me from the shadows as I climbed into the passenger's seat.

Much like the ride to his apartment, the trip from Marco's place to mine was fairly silent save for the radio playing Radiohead's _Karma Police_ softly through the old speakers. This relative silence was probably a good thing, for now, as I had a small amount of time to gather my thoughts about the whole situation, the whole new _world,_ I'd just been let in on, and Marco must have sensed this because he said nothing to me until we had pulled up to the front of my apartment building.

Just as I had unbuckled myself and climbed out of the car, Marco's voice came from behind me, saying, “Please be safe.”

I turned my head just enough to look back at him and flashed what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Don't worry, I'll be fine.” and he simply nodded and muttered a soft 'goodnight' as I pushed the door shut, and then he was off and I was left along on the sidewalk, my thoughts still tumbling around in my head with no real plan of what I was going to do next.

Regardless all the mental chaos, however, I did know one thing for certain:

I was probably about to do something very, _very_ stupid.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoooooooo boy do I hate writing dialogue, I always feel like it comes out emotionally detached whenever I write it in excess... It sure is a good thing that only 80% of this chapter is dialogue, huh?
> 
> Anyway, again, thank you all so much for the overwhelming support this fic has gotten so far, it really means the world to me, and as a reward for your dutiful reading of two straight chapters with zero levi-eren interaction, the next one will be almost solely levi-eren interaction.
> 
> See you soon, everybody <3


	4. Almost First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eren confronts his reflection.

“So just who the hell are you?” I asked my not-reflection in a voice that I hoped came off as sounding mildly irritated and not mildly terrified.

Completely disregarding all of Marco's clear warnings against doing so, the first thing I did when I entered my small shitty apartment was walk into the bedroom and tear the sheet I'd thrown over the mirror to reveal the faerie-boy ready and waiting with a slightly disgruntled look to his otherwise stoic face. Upon hearing my demand, however, his eyebrows moved up and his liquid silver eyes widened almost imperceptibly, though he quickly recovered and continued to regard me with a face as devoid of emotion as ever.

I wasn't having that though, not today. I wanted answers, and I was going to get them, my self-preservation be damned.

“I know that you're some weird fey thing,” I said, crossing my arms tightly over my chest in indignation, “So just tell me who you are what it is you want from me so you can leave me alone and I can get on with my life.”

Any semblance of calm the faerie had been keeping was gone as soon as the word 'fey' had slipped from my mouth; he'd appeared somewhat stunned at first, thin eyebrows once more shooting up in shock, and as my little tirade continued he adopted a more wary, guarded look.

“Well?” I said, agitated by his prolonged silence, “I go through a solid month of verbal harassment on the daily and now you choose to be quiet?”

A spark of something, quite possibly anger, ignited in his eyes a split second before he vanished from the mirror altogether, leaving me staring straight into my own blue-green eyes that I hadn't seen in ages. The transition itself was jarring, and I likely would have spent a fair amount of time examining my long-lost face if it weren't for the sound of a throat being cleared coming from behind me. In reflex, I whirled around in surprise and hopped backward, causing me to ram back-first into the mirror hanging on the wall which resulted in the mirror slipping from its inadequately applied hooks and sent both the mirror and myself crashing to the hardwood floor below.

A low oath slid from between my clenched teeth as a jolt of pain ran through my body on either side, one from the impact of the floor and the other from the mirror falling down on top of me- the mirror wasn't exceptionally heavy, but having any flat surface more than an inch thick tended to hurt when it slammed you with enough force behind it.

“You seem to enjoy spending time flat on your face.” Came his voice, which was unnerving considering it wasn't coming from the mirror anymore. Instinctively, my eyes flew to find the source of the disembodied voice, and when they did, my breath caught in my throat.

Though his face was still angular, his features were much softer and looked far less _sharp,_ which was mostly due to his porcelain skin appearing to not be so tightly drawn over his bones, and while he was still almost impossibly thin, he didn't appear to be quite as emaciated as before (Though it was hard to tell under the baggy plain white tee he favored wearing). His skin, still pale as it was, no longer held the pallor of a corpse and instead simply resembled that of a person who hadn't seen the light of day in some years- even his thin lips had traded their near-blue color in favor of a more normal pinkish hue. Even his eyes, normally a near-reflective silver, had visibly changed to a light grey-blue as he stared down at me.

He simply stood there, just in front of my bed, looking for all the world like he was a real live human being, which he wasn't, despite this new and very convincing mask he wore.

Scrambling out from underneath the mirror, I got to my feet and quickly pressed myself up against the wall, wary of his new human-esque appearance. In turn, he appraised me with a cautious expression of his own.

“He said you were invisible.” I blurted out finally.

“He?” the faery asked, raising an eyebrow just a fraction before realization dawned on his face, “Oh, you must mean your little freckled friend, is he the one that told you?”

A gasp flew from my lips a moment before my mouth slammed shut. I was so stupid! I'd only spoken about four sentences so far and already I had carelessly alluded to Marco's most close-kept secret. Remembering what he'd said would happen if the fey ever found out about his ability to see them, I shook my head vigorously to dissuade him from the truth, saying “No one told me anything, I figured it out for myself.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you're terrible at lying?” he said, turning around to sit languidly on top of my bed, “He must have been the one who told you, because I know for a fact you hadn't had the faintest of what I was before today- you wouldn't be looking at me right now with that dumb expression of yours if you had.”

I held my tongue at that. I was used to his insults, and wasn't about to let him rile me up with them now. I wasn't terribly fond of him sitting on my bed so casually though, as if he were already so comfortable in my home, in my presence, with my things.

When I said nothing, he continued, saying, “I don't really care, of course; it doesn't matter to me in the slightest what he does or doesn’t know- I just find it funny that he took the time to tell you that I was a faerie but failed to mention anything about glamour.”

“...Glamour?” I asked tentatively. Dimly, I was aware that this was the most we'd ever spoken to one another; he wasn't exactly tight-lipped, but our conversations thus-far had been terse at best and generally focused on insulting me. At the moment, I wasn't sure whether or not I preferred it that way.

“Under normal circumstances your human eyes are unable to perceive our physical forms,” He said with a sigh, sounding as though he were bored of this exchange already, “but the stronger fey, we're capable of using magick to weave something called a glamour to make ourself look human. It allows us to walk among you totally unnoticed.”

A shiver ran down my spine at the thought, knowing that any person I passed on the street could be a faerie wearing a human face, but then I reminded myself of the even more terrifying reality that I was passing even more faeries that I couldn't see. I took a deep breath in to steady myself and tried again to mask my obvious fear, though judging by the amused look the faerie before me was wearing, I wasn't doing a very good job of it.

“Okay, well, that answers one question, but you've completely avoided telling me who you are, why you've been hanging around in my mirror for the past few weeks, and what I can do to make you leave me alone.” I said, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“Levi. My name is Levi.” He said with an almost-smirk, finding humor in my forced bravado, “And as for why I've been following you around, it's a bit of a long story.”

“Paraphrase a bit, then.” I replied, irked that he was still dancing around my questions.

“You've got quite the temper.” He observed, once again dodging the question entirely. I wondered absently if that was a fey tactic, changing topics to steer clear of revealing any information about themselves. Given the fact that we'd been speaking in a relatively civilized manor for an extended length of time and the only information I'd been able to ferret out of him specifically was that his name was Levi, the possibility seemed likely.

“A possibly psychotic supernatural being has been secretly stalking me for over a month and keeps avoiding my questions.” I said pointedly, “I think I have a right to be a little miffed.”

Levi's already thin lips pressed together to form an even thinner line, as if he were pondering a new way to weasel out of answering me, but he seemed to resign himself to the fact that I wasn't going to let up and instead began to speak:

“Simply put,” he said, “My home life was proving to be unsatisfactory, so I ran off to be on my own for a while. In my search for a way to entertain myself, I stumbled up on you.” He paused, and looked up at me with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, saying “Or rather, _you_ were the one who stumbled.”

“Pardon?” I asked, wary of the look on his face. He knew what I was referring to.

“When I first laid eyes on you, you were walking down the street, heatedly discussing some trivial matter with your sister- you were so animated, pulling all these crazy expressions and throwing all these wild hand gestures, completely engrossed in you conversation and completely unaware of your surroundings. Call it fey instinct or whatever you like, but instantly I wanted to see how you'd react if there was a little...upset. Logically, I achieved this by sticking out my foot and tripping you up.” Levi said, his gaze falling to the ground and lips pressing together again for a moment before continuing, “I figured what would happen would be you would fall forward, maybe wrench your ankle a bit or scrape your knee, something small. What I did not expect was for you to fall _sideways_ \- and into oncoming traffic no less. I still can't figure out how you managed that. Nonetheless, I didn't want you _dead_ , especially not because of me, so I grabbed the back of your stupid university sweatshirt and hauled you back to the sidewalk before a soccer mom's mini van could roll over you.”

I vaguely remembered the event he was describing as he explained the scenario- specifically the fear I'd felt when I'd seen a silver Honda Odyssey hurtling towards me as gravity pulled me down to the road below. I also remembered the tug on the back of my jacket, pulling me back to safety, though I'd always assumed it was Mikasa's doing. One thing about his story didn't quite make sense to me.

“Why didn't you just let the car hit me?” I asked, confused.

The look Levi shot me suggested he was thinking I was insane. “Because up until that point I'd never murdered a human being and sure as hadn't planned on changing that status any time soon?”

“But you're a faerie,” I insisted, “aren't you supposed to revel in human suffering or something?” I could clearly recall Marco telling me that fey had zero respect for human life, and up until this point Levi had stayed true to that categorization with his mirror shenanigans. This new development though, him saving my life, it didn't add up.

A low sigh escaped from between his lips, “Probably. Most fey I know from my court are like that, for sure, but the killing of humans always seemed a bit excessive to me. Causing trouble is in my nature, but killing... I don't enjoy senseless killing, especially not when you're all completely oblivious to our existence. It feels like culling cattle.”

“So you don't plan on killing me, good to know,” I said sarcastically, “What about causing me extensive bodily harm? Was my fall on the stirs this morning your doing too?”

Levi snorted softly, “No, I learned my lesson the first time. Honestly, you don't need my help fucking up your life, so other than messing around in your reflection, I've been content to just watch you flounder around trying to get your shit together.”

The anger I felt in the pit of my stomach was near it's boiling point, I could feel my self-control slipping as I ground out my next question:

“Fine, okay, you've had your fun, now what's it going to take to get you out of my life forever?”

“Slow down there, tiger. I've just told you that I saved your life, why are you so eager to get rid of your hero?” He replied with a single eyebrow raised.

“Because you were the one who put my life in danger in the first place, not to mention the emotional trauma that came with seeing your face in my reflection every day thereafter. I'm sick of dealing with you, and I want you gone.” I said, daring to take a few, slow steps towards him. “So just tell me what it is I have to do to make you leave me the hell alone.”

Levi appraised me without a word, watching me carefully as I made my way over to where he sat on the edge of my bed, closing his eyes briefly and letting out a long sigh before opening them and rising to his feet and taking one long step forward to meet me. I tried not to appear startled by his sudden proximity, though keeping up a mask of indifference was difficult when a supernatural being stood only inches away from you.

We were both quiet for several moments- I was just taking note of how short he was when Levi opened his mouth to speak.

“I suppose this game has gone on long enough,” he said in a relatively quiet, monotone voice, “so if you truly want me gone, just say the word, and I will leave at once.”

My jaw practically fell open in shock before I got a hold of myself and snapped it shut, my teeth making an audible 'click' at the movement. However, the surprise I felt was quickly replaced with suspicion and my eyes narrowed, wary of his offer.

“That's it?” I asked, not quite buying it.

He nodded, his grey-blue gaze unflinching as he stared up at me. “Now that the secret is out it will hardly be as much fun to mess with you, so unless you desire my presence some reason, I'll be more than happy to take my leave.”

I didn't trust him to honor his word, not in the slightest, but the words flew from my mouth anyway:

“Get out of my house.”

A small smile fell across his face for just an instant, and before another could come to pass he disappeared entirely, leaving me alone in my small apartment bedroom.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone else feel like the quality of these chapters has been on a downward spiral since we started? Maybe it's just me.
> 
> Regardless, I'd just like to take a moment to say that even though ereri is my favorite ship in the snk world, I've been putting off writing anything for it for so long because I never feel as though I'm doing Levi's character any justice- he always feels very OOC to me, and this chapter took so long to come out for that very reason. I hope it doesn't read as awkwardly as it felt writing it.
> 
> In any case, thank you all for the wonderful comments and support since the last update, you cannot imagine the kind of joy your kind words bring to me. <3


	5. A Mourning Dove's Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eren probably wakes all the neighbors and comes clean about his mistakes.

“ _Marco_! ” I half-shouted, pounding my fist furiously against the dark wood of his apartment door, “Marco, open the goddamn door, I did something incredibly stupid and I need to talk to you _right now_!”

Last night, as soon as Levi had disappeared from my sight, I stood statue-still for probably a solid three minutes, just staring at the place he had once stood before me in utter disbelief. It wasn't until my eyes flicked to the mirror lying face-down near the corner that I somewhat snapped out of my daze, quickly strutting the the spot where the mirror lay, kneeling down and flipping it over in one fluid motion, peering down at the reflective surface and mentally bracing myself for whatever I might see in the reflective surface.

When my gaze fell upon teal irises, my whole body seemed to suddenly sag as the rigid tension left my muscles. I stared at my own reflection for the first time in what seemed like forever, eyes flashing over my own features in an attempted to re-commit the all to memory; I took in the strong line of my jaw, framed by deep drown hair that was a lot shaggier than I remembered it being, making a mental note to ask Mikasa if she would cut it the next time I saw her. (It used to be that she would just force me down in a chair in the middle of the living room whenever she felt my hair had gotten too long, but ever since I turned eighteen, she had decided that it was no longer her job to keep me looking presentable.) My hand reached up unbidden, running its fingertips across my nose, (slightly crooked from the time I'd gotten punched in the face in middle school,) and wandered to the hollow space under my eyes, where deep, bruise-like circles resided- a prominent reminder of all the sleepless nights I'd been having. From there, my hand traveled upward, pushing my over-grown bangs out of my face and fully reveling my eyes.

I'd never in my life been so happy to see the familiar blue-green color.

A grin spread its way across my face, laughter bubbling from my lips before I could stop it. The relief that came from simply seeing my own face in my reflection again was so al-encompassing at it was making me giddy. Before I knew it my arms were wound around my waist, clutching at my sides as my entire body shook with hysterical laughter. I was well aware that from an outside perspective I probably looked like a lunatic, but frankly I couldn't bring myself to care. I laughed until the laughter itself had long stopped and I was instead curled on my side, wheezing and shaking in silence, my stomach aching from the effort of its movements, and when that finally died off, I was left there in the corner of my tiny apartment bedroom, curled up into myself and thoroughly exhausted. I didn't even bother getting up to prepare myself for bed, instead I simply dragged myself up on top of my bed, quickly falling unconscious atop the duvet.

Some time later, and yet still far too early, I awoke with a start, bolting upright and breathing ragged. The dream itself had already fled from my grasp, the details hazy at best and the plot gone entirely, but I could very clearly the sight of _his_ face that had caused a rapid spike in my heart rate and sudden return to the waking world. Before I was even fully aware of it, my body was moving on its own accord, sliding off my bed and once more walking to the place where my mirror was leaning against the adjacent wall. My heart was still beating rapidly in my chest, anticipating a pair of piercing silver eyes staring back at me. Instead, I found my own tired visage staring back at me, and a gushing sigh escaped my mouth in relief. He was gone. Levi was gone, and I was safe.

_But for how long?_ A tiny voice spoke in the back of my mind.

Because I had been so reckless last night, Levi now knew that I was aware of the existence of the fey, and not only that, but I'd also let slip that Marco was sighted, which was apparently a very dangerous thing to be.

“Oh fuck, _Marco._ ” I nearly whispered as the gravity of what I'd done dawned on me. I'd inadvertently disclosed Marco's most important and well-kept secret to the very thing he was hiding it from. Marco's very life was now in danger because of my own brazen stupidity.

The birds had just barely begun to awaken for their early morning cacophony, but I immediately flew down the apartment stairwell and out the front door to my '91 Buick Park Avenue parked on the curb up the street. The moment the car sputtered itself awake, I was off in the direction of Marco's apartment.

* * *

 

“Marco, _please_ open up.” I said, continuing to pummel the old wooden door. “I know it's like four-thirty right now but this is super important and-”

The door then swung open, revealing a very tired, vaguely annoyed and slightly scared looking Marco Bodt.

“Eren, what the _hell_ are you doing pounding on my door at this hour?” He whispered harshly. It was a valid question.

“Marco, I really need to talk to you.” I said, my voice lowing to the same hushed tone he was using with me. “Can I come in? Please?”

Marco Bodt, being the pure freckled saint he is, did not turn me away; instead, he let out a measured sigh and stepped aside to once more allow me entrance into his apartment. The front door led directly into the living area of the flat, and I quickly made my way over to the worn couch pressed up against the wall to my left, siting down on the edge and folding my hands tightly in my lap. Marco closed the door behind me and placed the bolt back in place before joining me, situating himself in a faded floral print recliner placed catty-corner to me.

At first, I said nothing, sitting in silence and awkwardly examining my shoes as I tried to piece together what I should say; unsurprisingly, in all the rush to get here I hadn't actually thought of how I was going to break the news to Marco that I may or may not have just ruined his life beyond repair.

Eventually Marco must have grown tired of waiting for me to speak because he cleared his throat, and with a wry sort of smile, he said, “I thought you said we were going to talk.” He was quoting me from early that say, mocking me with the same words I had used on him when he couldn't find the words to tell me that there was a faerie stalking me. Now the roles were reversed, and I could understand why Marco had been so terrified to speak up.

Letting out a shaky sigh, I pushed my bangs out of my eyes and said, “Marco, I fucked up.”

Marco raised and eyebrow but said nothing, patiently waiting for me to continue at my own pace. For that, I was grateful.

“After you took me home last night I was really... scared... and tired, and angry.” I said, averting my gaze, “I just so _sick_ of living with this...this _monster_ following me, and now that I finally knew what he was...I did exactly what you told me not to do. I confronted him, told him I knew he was a faerie, and asked him to leave.”

“You _what_?” Marco's voice lashed out like a whip, and I winced. Though his reaction was expected and god knows it was an appropriate response, it was nonetheless alarming to see Marco's normally calm demeanor phase into something harsher. There was fear in his eyes; he was worried, not for himself, but for me, and I felt all the more guilty having to tell him it wasn't me he should be concerned about.

“I just couldn't take the near constant threat of a psychopathic monster looming over me any more, and I snapped.” I said, the words spilling out of my mouth like some sort of floodgate had opened. “He was responsive to me, oddly enough, and compliant to a certain degree with answering my questions. He told me his name was Levi, told me that he'd run away from home or something, his 'court' I think he said-”

“ _He's court fey_?” Marco interjected, a horror-stricken look flitting across his features.

“Yes? I mean, I think that's what he said.” I replied, confused. Everyone kept spitting these fey terms at me as if I was already supposed to know what they meant. “What does that mean?”

Marco swallowed hard, “Court fey are faeries that move in the circle of a king or queen, they're stronger than the rest, far more powerful, and often times crueler. Some even have...abilities, beyond that of putting on a simple glamor.” He stopped, gritting his teeth suddenly, “I should have considered the possibility when you said he appeared to you in reflective surfaces, but I was more concerned at the time with the fact that he was following you to think of it. He was acting on his own, like a solitary...” He trailed off for a moment, eyes looking past me as if he were trying to work out some kind of riddle, though after several seconds of silence his gaze locked with mine once more.

“Did he tell you which court he belonged to?”

I wracked my brain for the answer before shaking me head, “No, I don't think so. All I can remember him saying is that he didn't enjoy killing humans like the rest of the fey in his court.”

The way Marco's breath caught in is throat was audible.

“Unseelie, then.” He whispered, almost to himself, again with the terms I didn't understand.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“From what I've been told or seen for myself,faeries can be categorized three ways: many are solitary, keeping to themselves and often nomadic, not staying anywhere in particular for an extended length of time. Some live in packs, you know, like wolves or deer, still 'solitary' but more likely to choose one area to settle in. The rest are court fey, powerful fey aligned to a single court- either the the Seelie or the Unseelie.” Marco explained, “Of all the fey I've seen, the Seelie are the most... _well mannered_ of the lot, and that's using the term lightly; they're subtle in their cruelty, I think their monarch must bind them by tighter laws when it comes to messing with humans. The Unseelie though, they're completely unrestrained, living for the sole purpose of causing chaos and destruction; they're dark, baleful, and have seemingly no regard for human life. They're by far the most dangerous.”

“Oh fuck.” I swore, burying my face in my hands. I didn't just tell a faerie about one of my best friends' potentially life-threatening secret, I told one of the most _dangerous_ faeries. “Marco, I screwed up so bad.”

“It'll be okay, Eren,” Marco said, getting up from his seat and moving to the empty place beside me. The knot in my stomach gave another painful twist when he lifted his hand to place on my shoulder; he was still trying to comfort me, as if I were the one really in danger here, and the thought made me sick.

“Marco, that wasn't the only thing I told Levi.” I said thickly, my gaze trained on my hands, now clasped together in my lap, gripping each other so tightly that my knuckles were turning white, “I also told him about you.”

Marco's hand froze, two of his fingertips just barely grazing the fabric of the crumpled shirt I had slept in.

“....What?” His voice was barely a whisper.

I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see the look on Marco's face as I told him this. “It was an accident, I swear, I didn't even realize I had said anything about you, but Levi picked up on it somehow; he must have realized that my sudden knowledge of faeries after arriving home from your faerie-proof apartment wasn't a coincidence. He knows that you know about faeries too, knows that you know _a lot_ about faeries. I think he suspected that you can see them. I didn't think anything of it at first, he said he didn't care, but then after talking for a while he decided that tormenting me wasn't going to be any fun anymore if I knew what he was and then he just disappeared. I think he really left, too. Ihaven't seen or heard or felt anything weird since he vanished, and I was so relieved, but then I realized what kind of information he now had and I came straight over here. I'm so sorry, Marco.”

Everything was silent aside from the whir of the central air system and the faint sound of a mourning dove cooing somewhere outside. After several seconds of stillness, I heard Marco's hand drop to his lap, yet still nothing was said. Several minutes passed like this, me with my eyes still shut tightly, neither of us saying anything, the dove cooed incessantly.

Without warning, Marco suddenly got to his feet; my eyes snapped to his face but he wasn't looking at me. Instead, he quickly made his way into his bedroom. I was confused, unsure of what he was doing, if I was meant to follow him or not as I heard the sound of his dresser being pulled open. I wasn't left to wonder long, however, as the noise ceased as quickly as it had started and a moment later Marco was standing before me, looking down at me intently, the emotions swimming in his eyes completely unreadable.

His face, stoic, hard, impossible to decipher, reminded me of Levi, and I swallowed hard.

“Take this.” He said, and something cold fell into my lap.

Picking the object up, I could see it was a heavy chain necklace. “Wha-”

“It's iron. Wearing it should protect you from the weaker faeries at the very least. It's all I can do for you right now.” Marco's jaw visibly clenched, “And now that I've given it to you, you have to go.”

I blinked uncomprehendingly. “Go where?”

“Home. Work. The park. I don't care, you just can't be here right now.” Marco said harshly, and I could feel myself shrinking back into the couch cushions. Seeing this, Marco's eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, running a hand through his neatly trimmed hair as he exhaled. When he opened them again, his eyes had softened some, but now I could clearly see the fear residing there. “Please, Eren. I need to be alone right now, I need to think, to plan.” He said, his expression pleading, “I need some time to sort all this out and figure out what to do. I promise when I have a plan, you'll be the first to know, but for now, the best thing you can do for the both of us is leave here and look as inconspicuous as possible, okay?”

I nodded numbly, and somehow managed to get to my feet. Almost mechanically, I made my way to the entryway. Marco didn't follow behind me to walk me down to the lobby, not even to lock the door behind me, and I didn't blame him. Instead, I myself closed the door behind me as quietly and made my way down the staircase and back out to the street.

The sun was now bright and warm overhead, and as I made my way back to my old Park Avenue I tried very hard to convince myself that it was the slight breeze pressed against my back causing the goosebumps to raise across my skin and not the feather-light touch of a creature I wasn't capable of seeing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey kids! Welcome back to Too Many Words, Not enough Plot, where we vomit out 2,600+ words and accomplish almost nothing plot-wise!
> 
> I'm serious, I had originally planned for this chapter to be the end of chapter 4, but then chapter 4 ended up longer than I expected and then this got pushed to the opening paragraphs of chapter 5 but the the words jUST KEPT COMING and now we're stuck with this. I really hope you don't mind. Next chapter has a lot more plot and some more familiar characters make themselves known, so get hype.
> 
> In other news, I've officially started college. (thanks to all of you who wished me well on it) I'm all moved in, classes are started, and I'm very lonely most of the time, but I'm managing, and hopefully this means I'll be able to stick with the two-week plan for updating. Again, if I happen to be able to work faster than that, I most definitely will. Otherwise, updates are now scheduled for every-other Wednesday. 
> 
> Boring stuff aside, thank you so much for reading; I sincerely hope you like this chapter and are still interested in finishing this little story with me. 
> 
> Much love,  
> Daffy <3


	6. Bad Things Happen to Good People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eren tries to be a good samaritan and it backfires almost immediately.

“Eren, as someone who cares about you immensely, I feel the need to inform you that you look like absolute crap right now.” Mikasa said, peering at me over a steaming cup of caffe americano. She was just stopping by to hang out for a bit before she had to teach a class down at the dojo, and both Armin and I had just clocked out of our shifts.

“Thanks, sis, you always know just what to say.” I said, inwardly grimacing. She wasn't wrong; over the course of five days I had only managed to accumulate eighteen hours of sleep, and as a result of those sleepless nights, my skin had paled considerably and bruise-like crescents that had developed underneath my tired eyes. By this point, my fine motor skills were shot, I was nearly useless at work, and I could hardly even hold a coherent conversation for an extended period of time, but whenever I laid myself down to rest the idea of an invisible monster preying on me in my sleep managed to push its way to the forefront of my mind, and suddenly I was wide awake and all-too alert. “I just haven't been sleeping well lately, other than that I'm absolutely fine.”

Neither Mikasa or Armin looked as if they believed me for a second, and I didn't blame them.

Armin pursed his lips briefly, then said, “We're just worried about you, Eren-”

“Please don't go all _Intervention_ on me.” I interrupted, knowing full-well the direction this conversation was about to take. “I promise you guys that if there were any issues I could tell you about, I already would have.” That part wasn't a lie, at least. If I _could_ tell them about what was going on, I would have done it ages ago; it wasn't like I enjoyed skirting around the truth and living alone in a constant state of anxiety.

Mikasa waved her hand dismissively, “Fine, fine. We'll stop badgering you about it, just don't forget that we're here for you, alright?”

“How could I ever forget, you remind me nearly every time we speak,” I said with heavy sarcasm and a smile.

“Hey, don't go taking that for granted now, you punk.” Mikasa said, reaching a hand over to ruffle my hair playfully. Luckily I'd found the time to go get it trimmed since the last time we'd seen each other, or she probably would have been on my case about that, too. “I don't offer unconditional love to just anyone, you know. Most people have to work for it.”

“Your love may not come easy, but it sure comes cheep. All I have to do is offer you a tall black cup of coffee and a lemon poppy seed scone and you practically purr.” I said with a grin, shoving her hand away from me. Across the table, Armin snickered, clearly amused by our exchange, and Mikasa reached behind him to give his little blonde pony tail a gentle tug.

“Now, as much as I would like to stay and suffer your continued abuse,” I said, to which Mikasa replied with a roll of the eyes, “I've got to get going. It's already seven thirty and I've got to pick up some groceries and go to the laundromats because I am a _responsible adult_ who _takes care of himself._ ”

“Alright, we get it.” Armin said with laughter in his voice, “Go on and run your errands.”

I shot him a smile and stood and slung my satchel bag over my shoulder and downed the rest of my coffee, hoping the rush from the caffeine would get my through my domestic tasks. Throwing a goodbye over my shoulder, I made my way out the door and into the orange light of the setting sun.

* * *

 

When the timer for the dryer I'd been using finally went off, the clock on the wall across from me read ten eighteen and I could feel the after-caffeine-crash coming on quickly; it made my bones feel heavy and my whole body sway from the effort of keeping myself upright, but I did my best to ignore the way the fatigue made it feel as though all my organs were shutting down as I shoved the warm clothes directly from the dryer to my laundry bag. As I heaved the muslin sack over my shoulder and walked out into the dry heat of a late-summer night, I absently wondered if this all-consuming exhaustion was a sign that I would actually be able to sleep tonight. As it was, I was currently too tired even to fret over the possibility that an invisible entity could be following me as I made my way home. It wasn't as if I was in any state to do anything about it if there were; all I could do now was believe that the iron chain clasped around my neck would really ward them off during my short walk home as Marco had said.

 _Marco._ I outwardly winced at the thought. It was going on six days since I'd shown up on his doorstep at the crack of dawn and I hadn't heard a word from him since. He promised to call when he was ready, and I was doing my best to respect those wishes, but as the days wore on, the silence became increasingly worrisome.

“Excuse me.” A soft voice came from right in front of me.

I blinked several times as my gaze focused on the small figure who had spoken to me; I had apparently been so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I hadn't noticed that a small girl had approached until she stood directly in front of me and outright addressed me.

Giving her the once-over, I found that it was difficult to gauge how old she was just by looking at her; she was one of those people with naturally large moss-green eyes and a rounded baby-face that eluded to an age younger than her sharp winged eyeliner and black leather hot pants would suggest. The way she'd shoved her relatively short, unruly red hair into pigtails didn't help, either.

Those big green eyes of hers were now fixing me with a look that indicated she may currently be questioning my mental capabilities, and I realized I had been blankly staring down at her longer than social etiquette allowed and had yet to offer a response.

“Er, sorry,” I said with a grimace, “I was lost in thought. Can I help you?”

The girl smiled up at me, apparently relieved that I wasn't mentally handicapped. “You wouldn't happen to know your way around here, would you? I'm afraid I'm a bit lost. I just moved in to an apartment on Atkinson and I think I got turned around on my way back from a party on Corey.”

“Atkinson? I think you went the wrong direction, Corey is three blocks south of here, and then Atkinson is another two blocks south of that.” I said, trying to map out the streets in my head.

“Aw, shit.” The girl said, slapping her palm to her forehead, “So I _was_ going the wrong way. I'm an idiot.”

“Nah, it's really easy to get turned around in the part of town. My friend Sasha always complains that all the streets look exactly the same so it's impossible to find her way around.” I tried to reassure her, “In any case, if you go to the end of the street here and turn right it will take you back to Cory, and then at the end of Cory you can turn left onto Tamworth and travel down that until you hit Atkinson.”

“Okay, right here, down Cory, left on Tamworth, right to Atkinson?” I nodded, and she smiled, “Okay, I got it, thank you so much for your help.”

“Not a problem.” I said with a returning smile. But as girl waved a goodbye and started off down the street in the direction I had pointed I frowned; she had said she was coming back from a party, and while she was clearly sober enough to hold a conversation that didn't mean she wasn't under the influence of alcohol whatsoever, not to mention the way she was dressed may attract some very unwanted attention from less desirable individuals. Thinking about it now, I couldn't believe one of her friends hadn't offered to drive her home, or at the very least walk with her for a bit to make sure she'd make it back safely.

“Hey, wait!” I called, causing her to stop and turn, giving me time to close the distance between us. “Atkinson is actually close to where I'm headed anyway. I could walk with you, if you like.”

“But you were just headed in the other direction.” She noted, calling my bluff.

I shrugged, “I was going to stop at the gas station for a mountain dew before heading back, but I thought better of it”

“Alright, if you're sure then, I wouldn't mind the company.” She said in a tone that suggested she knew I was lying, but wasn't going to call me out on it.

“Good, you're doing my conscience a favor.” I said, falling into step beside her, “These neighborhoods aren't known for being particularly dangerous, but I never would have been able to forgive myself if I woke up in the morning to see your face in the newspaper as a victim of a kidnapping.”

The girl let out a laugh, a light, tinkling sound that reminded me of the chime of a small bell. “I know I look small and unassuming, but I assure you, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. If anything, thugs on the street should be afraid of me.” She flashed me a sideways grin and I honestly couldn't tell whether or not she was being facetious. “So what should I be calling you, stranger?”

“I'm Eren.”

“Well, it's nice to meet you, Eren. I'm Isabel.” She said, “Thank you for accompanying me instead of going home and getting some of that sleep that you desperately need.”

“That bad, huh?” I asked, fingertips coming up to touch the skin hanging loose under my eyes.

Isabel laughed again, “You look like a freshly-turned zombie, actually. I was hesitant to approach you at first in case you decided the delicate taste of human flesh was suddenly very appealing.”

“Har dee har har.” I said, rolling my eyes, “I just haven't gotten a decent night's sleep in nearly a week.”

“Why's that? Monsters under the bed making too much noise?”

“Quite the opposite, actually. The monster stopped making noise, and that's what's got me worried.” I said, perhaps a bit to seriously. I had to remind myself that she was only teasing, that she didn't know monsters actually existed, nor that they weren't confined to only hiding under the bed.

Isabel hummed in acknowledgment of my statement, and let the topic drop. As silence fell between us I was once again made aware of just how exhausted I truly was; my feet felt leaden and the dull throb that had been settled between my eyes earlier had evolved to a pounding all over. I wondered absently if Mikasa would begrudge me a ride home once I dropped off Isabel. Realizing that I was staring off into space like a zombie again, I shook myself and looked over to Isabel to tell her our turn was just up ahead- only she wasn't there.

I stopped in my tracks and whirled around, eyes frantically searching for the small redhead; she had just been there beside me, I was certain of it, I could hear the heels of her black suede ankle boots clicking on the pavement with every step, and yet somehow she had just up and vanished from under my nose.

“Isabel?” I called out tentatively, my heart beating hard in my chest. No response. “Isabel!” I tried again, this time louder. Again, nothing.

I took a deliberately deep breath and immediately began retracing my steps; I knew full well I could be oblivious to the world around me when I spaced out, but it was highly unlikely that Isabel had been snagged from my side by some thug or kidnapper or murderer without something tipping me off to the commotion, so I quickly ruled that possibility out. The only other option I could think of was that she'd somehow just wandered off, but somehow that too seemed a bit far fetched. We had been the only two people walking down the street in either direction, it would have been difficult to get separated. Nonetheless, I carried on my search until I came across an alleyway cut out between a closed Smoothie King and an old apartment building. Seeing as it was the only branching path between the road we had turned off of and the street we had been about to head down, it was the only viable course Isabel could have taken.

It was also sketchy as hell and I was not particularly excited to walk down it.

As I'd said before, the neighborhoods in this part of town weren't especially crime-ridden, though once or twice a month you could find a report about a recent robbery or petty theft in the newspaper, so under normal circumstances I most likely wouldn't have bat and eyelash at the prospect of walking into the alleyway- but these were not normal circumstances. The time was nearing eleven at night, I was so tired that the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other had become one of the most laborious tasks I had ever been faced with, the girl I had been escorting home had virtually vanished from my side, and to top it all off, the seemingly only way I could hope to find this girl was to traverse a very dark backstreet that was giving off some majorly bad vibes. At the moment I didn't have many other options though, so I steeled myself as best I could and turned into the alley with my shoulder squared.

“Isabel?” I called out again, my voice echoing off the brick walls enclosing me. A sudden rattling in one of the metal trashcans lining the wall to my right caused me to visibly jump and let out a very manly yelp of relative terror when the bushy striped tail of a raccoon appeared above the rim as the small scavenger backed it's way out of the bin with a half-eaten slice of pizza held between it's teeth. Taking no notice of my presence, the raccoon hopped down from the trashcan and scampered off with it's prize and I internally kicked myself for getting so worked up over nothing.

I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to call for Isabel again, but before the words made it out a strong blow hit my back from behind and I was very harshly pressed into the wall to my left, with the force of my chest hitting the bricks causing the air to rush from my lungs and leave me gasping. Before I could register what had happened a hand grabbed my wrist and twisted it behind me, pressing it down hard between my shoulder blade to keep me pressed flush to the wall and unable to move away.

“If you keep still and cooperate, we can be done with this quickly and you can walk away from this relatively unscathed, do you understand?” A low, yet distinctly feminine voice hissed in my ear. Somehow I felt as though I knew the voice that had spoken to me, but my head was still reeling and I barely had time to process the words before the hand gripping my wrist gave it a sharp, upwards tug and pain exploded in my shoulder. “ _Do you understand?_ ”

“Yes!” I gasped, “Yes, I understand!” The pulling quickly ceased and I struggled to catch my breath. A voice in the back of my head told me to get a good look at my assailant’s face so that could report them to the police later, but the moment I made to turn my head, the grip on my wrist increased tenfold, and I let out a hoarse yelp.

“I told you to stay still, Eren. I'm not going to ask you again.”

As soon as my name was spoken I realized exactly why I felt as though I had heard that voice before, and so, without stopping to consider the consequences, I whipped my head around to finally look my attacker in the face and confirm my suspicions.

“ _Isabel?_ ”

Isabel snarled, her large green eyes narrowing in contempt as she slammed my body hard into the brick wall again, hard enough that there would probably be bruises. I let out a pained grown in response, and tried to ask just what the hell she was doing, but Isabel cut me off before the words could even form.

“Where is Levi?” She asked.

“Levi?” My head was spinning again, nothing was making sense, “How do you know-”

Her sharp nails dig their way into my skin, deep enough that I could feel blood welling up below her fingertips, and the sentence cut off in a strangled cry, “Tell me where he is, _now_.”

“I don't know!” I said honestly.

“Bull _shit_ you don't know. I was told he had been following you around for weeks before he disappeared again. You have to know where he is.”

“ _I don't know_ ,” I insisted, “He just disappeared one day!”

Instead of a verbal response Isabel gave my arm another acute, upward jerk, “I'm not playing around here, Eren. You can either tell me where Levi is now, or you can tell me after I dislocate your arm, but you're going to tell me one way or anoth-”

“Isabel.” A firm voice sounded from the mouth of the alleyway, both Isabel and I stiffened simultaneously. I didn't even have to look towards the owner of the voice to know who it belonged to.

“Let him go,” Levi said, his voice low and dangerous “ _now_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho-boy. Eren just can't seem to catch a break, can he?
> 
> This chapter is longer than any of the others by a good 400 words (probably because of the really boring part where Isabel and Eren ramble on about streets or a while) and yet even with all the extra words thought the end still feels very rushed to me- does it read that way to you guys? If it does maybe I'll go back and revise it later.
> 
> Again, I'm terribly sorry for the late update but I needed that extra couple days so bad. (I was so exhausted last night that I fell asleep at 8 and didn't wake up until 10 the next morning.) Thank you all so much for your kind words and understanding, they made me so happy that I very nearly cried.
> 
> I love you all so much, thank you for reading <3


	7. Unwitting Eavesdropping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eren is rescued, while also becoming privy to some classified information.

The moment the order had left Levi's lips, Isabel released me from her grip and backed away with a sheepish grin, similar to a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar. “Sorry, Bro, I didn't know it was yours.” I wasn't terribly fond of the way she referred to me as an 'it,' much less the implication that I 'belonged' to Levi, but given all that had occurred I held my tongue and elected to focus my energy on willing my body to stop its incessant shaking.

Levi barely acknowledged Isabel's words- in fact, he seemed to be ignoring her completely, instead he seemed to be gazing off over her shoulder into the black gloom of the alleyway. “You know I can see you, Farlan, so you may as well just come out.” he said to the darkness.

It might have been that I was simply too exhausted from the sleep deprivation, or I was, god forbid, actually getting used to all of this madness happening around me, but when a new figure emerge from the shadows I was completely unfazed. “Sorry, Levi.” he said, with his head bowed, blonde hair in his eyes and shoulders hunched forward as though he were bracing himself for a scolding, even though he sported the same unapologetic grin as Isabel.

“What are you both doing here.” Levi said in a way that sounded less like a question and more like a command, though somehow still maintaining his usual air of nonchalance- as though he really didn't care what their answer was.

“Kenny wants you to come home, said that it's about time you finish throwing your temper tantrum and get back to work.” Isabel said with a shrug “His words, not mine.”

“What she means to say,” Farlan said quickly, throwing a pointed look towards Isabel, “Is that that we all miss you desperately- Kenny may the head of our court, but you are its pulse. Things have been far more... _difficult_ since you've been gone.”

Levi pressed his lips together for a moment, considering what he'd just been told, before saying, “There's something more than that.” Farlan's jaw visibly clenched in response, and his pale blue eyes began to wildly around the space, searching, before Levi spoke again, “No one else is here, Farlan, we're completely alone.”

Instead of replying, Farlan's eyes flicked towards me briefly, and then back to Levi. Levi waved his hand dismissively in response, as though to tell him that when he said no one, it included me as well. Farlan stared at Levi for a moment longer, studying his face briefly before nodding. I couldn't discern the nature of their relationship to one another, but both Isabel and Farlan seemed to take Levi's word as law; when Levi told Isabel to release me, she did so without complaint; when Levi told Farlan to come out of hiding, Farlan complied immediately; now, when Levi told Farlan that we were alone here in this alleyway, the hesitation in his face faded away immediately and he said, “The air in the court is changing, you can feel it under your skin when you enter the Wraith; it's as if the darkness we're known for is suddenly a tangible thing- heavy and oppressive. Kenny is gone often and has ordered no one to follow him when he goes, nor does he tell us anything when he returns.”

“With Kenny gone so often, the court is falling into chaos. We can try to keep the Underlings in line, but you know that no one but the king himself can truly control them.” Isabel adds, “Without orders to obey, they're wreaking more havoc than usual on the mortals. We're afraid that if someone doesn't do something soon...” She suddenly snaps her mouth shut, grinding her teeth down hard with a frightening expression.

“We're afraid that if someone doesn't do something soon, Erwin is going to feel the need to step in.” Farlan finished solemnly.

Isabel visibly flinched as the name 'Erwin' fell from Farlan's lips, Levi's jaw visibly clenches in response, and none of them say anything for several seconds, as if they needed a moment to process what had just been said.

Me, I needed more than just a moment.

My head was whirling, and I hadn't the faintest idea what any of the information that had just been exchanged in front of me meant, but the words coupled with everyone's reactions, I could at the very least infer that it was not good news. To make matters worse, it seemed that the adrenalin that had been keeping my body going up until this point had finally run out and the exhaustion I had been fighting off for days finally made its way back with a vengeance; my legs decided that they no longer wanted to support my weight and slowly gave out beneath me, leaving my body to slide painfully down the rough brick wall behind me until my ass hit the pavement below. Levi's eye flashed towards me for less than a second, but aside from that the three faeries paid me no mind. Instead, Levi finally spoke up:

“I don't know what you think will change if I do decide to come back- you know as well as I do that no one can control Kenny.”

Farlan nodded, “It may be that no one can control him, but you were always the one who came the closest.”

Levi stared hard at Farlan for several heartbeats before closing his eyes and letting out a resigned sigh. “I'll think about it,” Isabel opened her mouth to say something in response but before she could make a sound he made a silencing gesture in her direction, “But I have some business to take care of before I can worry about what Kenny is doing,” Again, Isabel looked at though she was about to speak and again, Levi silenced her, “And no, it does not involve and _will not_ involve the both of you. In a couple weeks time I will come to seek you out, and until then I want to see hide nor hair of either of you- do I make myself clear?”

Isabel visibly deflated at his words, her lower lip jutting out an a pout as she muttered out a quiet, “Yes, Levi.”

“We understand.” Farlan said, dipping his head in what I could only assume was a show of respect.

“Good. Then leave me.” The pair nodded in sync, and without hesitation turned and began to make their way to the mouth of the alleyway. “Take care of yourselves.” Levi said quietly just before they rounded the corner, and while neither of them acknowledged the phrase, I had no doubt that they had heard him loud and clear.

As soon as Isabel and Farlan disappeared from view I was suddenly made very aware of the damage Isabel had done when she had assaulted me earlier when I planted my arm down on the pavement underneath me to try to force myself to my feet once more. A hiss slid from between my teeth at the sensation, and I quickly retracted my arm and cradled it to my chest with the other.

“Can you walk?” I can't deny that I physically jolted in surprise at the sound of Levi's voice addressing me; it wasn't that I had forgotten he was there, but I had fully expected him to disappear again as soon as Isabel and Farlan had left. The fact that he was still here, his grey eyes trained carefully on mine and questioning my mobility, was baffling to say the least.

“I..” It was only after I opened my mouth to answer him that I realized I didn't have an answer to his question. I probably still had enough strength left in me to stand up, maybe walk to the exit of the alleyway, but even just sitting here I could feel the heavy exhaustion settled down deep in my limbs. I wasn't entirely confident in my ability to make it home.

Levi, seeming too impatient to wait for me to respond made to take a step towards me. Instinctively, I pressed myself closer to the brick wall, cradling my arm tightly to my chest in response to his movement. Seeing this, Levi stopped his advances, studying me quietly for a moment before saying, “I'm not going to hurt you, Eren. I told you that.” After taking a moment to consider his words, and decided that he had not yet done anything to negate that statement, I willed my body to relax slightly. Seeming satisfied with this, Levi made is way over to where I was sat awkwardly on the ground, bending down slightly and extending a hand toward me.

I stared blankly at the hand, then his face, and back to his hand, unsure of what he was trying to do.

“I'm helping you up, brat.” He said.

If anything, I was even more confused. “Why?”

“Just take my hand, Eren.” Levi said, sounding very much like I was testing his patience. When I made no motion to do so, he follow up with, “If you don't take my hand, so help me, I will pull you up into my arms and carry you home like a newlywed bride, is that what you want?”

“You're taking me home?” I asked, choosing to ignore the last part of the sentence.

“Yes.”

“ _Why?_ ” I asked again, honestly baffled as to why he was suddenly helping me.

“Because you seem to be entirely incapable of making the trip be yourself.” He said, looking at me with an expression that suggested that it was an obvious fact and I must have had an incredibly low IQ to not have understood that concept.

I shook my head, “No, I mean why are you helping me? What do you care if I make it home or not?” I questioned, reaching out and grasping his hand. His skin was cool to the touch, despite the warm temperature of the late summer evening.

“Because, Eren,” He said, hoisting me to my feet in one swift, fluid motion. “Despite what you may believe, I don't hate you, and it would actually bother me if you didn't make it home tonight because an...associate of mine chose to attack you in an effort to get to me.” Almost immediately I began to sway, my legs still unwilling to cooperate with my commands, and to keep me from falling, Levi wrapped his arm, the one that wasn't already preoccupied with holding my hand, around my waist to steady me. “Are you okay to walk?”

I could have sworn that my face had gone up in flame from the way my cheeks were suddenly burning- it may have been the words he had said or the way he was carefully, albeit firmly, holding me, but something about the situation was exceedingly embarrassing and I wanted nothing more than for him to stop looking at me so I could try to still my suddenly racing heartbeat and somewhat regain my composure. However, he instead continued to stare directly at me, so I very eloquently said, “I... I, uh, I don't...I-I mean I-”

Levi continued to watch me fumble for words for several seconds before finally deciding to have mercy upon my poor exhausted soul, by letting out an exasperated sigh, “Alright, kid, don't hurt yourself. Here,” He said, suddenly releasing both my hand and his hold on my waist and turning around so that I was now staring at his back and crouching down slightly.

Once more, I did little more than stare at him, perplexed as to what he could possibly be doing this time.

He wasn't even looking at me when he said, “Alright, stop looking at me with that stupid expression and get on already.”

“What?”

“If you aren't going to walk, I don't see any other way to get you home other than carrying you.” He replied simply.

Again, I was incredibly wary of his gesture, but this time for an entirely different reason. “Won't I be... too heavy?” I asked, shutting myself up before I made a comment about how I was at _least_ a half a foot taller than he was and with seemingly far more muscle mass than his slight form.

“I'm probably capable of lifting ten of you, brat.” He snapped back, “Now get on before I change my mind about toting your ass home and just leave you here to get jumped”

I didn't doubt that statement for even as second, so I quickly placed my hands on top of his shoulders and scrambled up, his arms coming up under my legs to secure me in place and hoist me the rest of the way. From the outside it must have looked incredibly awkward, someone as tall as me clambering onto the back of someone as small and slight as him, but true to his word it seemed he had no issue with supporting my weight, not showing even the slightest hint of a struggle as he stood back up to full height.

He turned his head ever so slightly to look back at me and asked, “Is this okay?” I wasn't entirely sure how to answer that question, being as embarrassed and still slightly afraid as I was, but I assumed he was referring to my position on his back, to which I gave a quick, sharp nod in response. “Alright,” He said, walking forward a few steps and taking my abandoned laundry bag in hand, “Let's get you home.”

I said nothing in response, and Levi seemed content to let the conversation fade away, leaving us blanketed in a peaceful quiet, broken only by the rhythmic sound of his steady footsteps. Soon enough the same exhaustion that had already caused my limbs to become leaden and useless began to weigh down my head and neck as well- not to mention my eyelids felt as though they weighed a thousand pounds- and it wasn't long before I found my head falling forward onto Levi's shoulder. He might have then asked something along the lines of 'Are you okay,' but anymore all I could was really capable of comprehending was a light and calming earthen scent as I pressed my nose into the hollow of his neck, and the consistent thrumming of a heartbeat- his heartbeat- in my ear, lulling me into a blissfully torpid state.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's me.  
> I was wondering if after all these weeks you'd like to read  
> a new chapter  
> of this fic...
> 
> Okay, that enough Adele parodying for now.
> 
> Anyway, I would really just like to thank all of you for your amazingly kind and understanding comments on that little notice I sent out a little while ago, it really made my heart happy <3 So, as promised here's the new chapter, complete with Levi and the barest hint of fluff there at the end uwu
> 
> Hopefully I'll be seeing you lovelies soon <3

**Author's Note:**

> As always, if you'd like to see more of my writing, art, or fandom related stuff, feel free to visit my blog, www.dafthappiness.tumblr.com


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